


Countdown

by st_aurafina



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_aurafina/pseuds/st_aurafina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen minutes is a perfectly adequate amount of time, according to Fitz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selenay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/gifts).



Mack heard the footsteps across the hangar floor, and scooted the dolly out from beneath the landing gear before Fitz had made it all the way from the door. 

"You at a stopping point?" Mack wiped his hands on an oily rag. 

Fitz nodded with a grin, and before Mack could ask how long they had before his experiment needed attention, he held up a digital timer. The display counted down from fifteen minutes. 

"I don't know," Mack said. "That's kind of rushing things for me." He folded his arms, still sitting cross-legged on the dolly. 

"Pfff," said Fitz, and sat down in front of him. "It's loads… loads… perfectly adequate." 

Mack reached out for him. "Okay, if you say so." He wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him close, so they sat inelegantly but comfortably intertwined.

"I say so," said Fitz, with determination, and kissed him first. 

Fitz knew him too well, thought Mack, absently, as they made out behind the giant wheel of the plane. Catch him around fantastic machinery and the smell of grease, and there was no way he could say no to a little fooling around. He pushed his hand through Fitz's hair, and pulled him closer. If it wasn't the middle of the afternoon, he'd be working at the buttons on Fitz's shirt, but as it was, a long languorous kiss was, in fact, perfectly adequate. 

Fitz pushed at him until he was lying back on the dolly again, and leaned over him to kiss him more fervently, grinding a little against him. Mack was just at the point of suggesting they find somewhere a little less exposed to see where this was going, when Fitz's pocket exploded in a frenzy of beeping. 

Fitz made a noise of frustration and kept kissing him, fast and desperate. 

"Isn't that you?" Mack managed to gasp, before Fitz had his mouth there again. 

"Doesn't… doesn't… I'm busy," Fitz said. He had a hand on Mack's thigh, and Mack lost his concentration, imagining that hand moving higher, those long nimble fingers. The dolly was rolling, he thought, he should… he should stop it. 

A siren went off, and then another, two different klaxons pealing into the afternoon. Fitz sat up, cracked his head on the undercarriage of the plane, and produced a very loud, very clear "Fuck!" 

Someone cleared their throat from the other side of the wheel, and Mack pulled himself upright. Coulson stood there, hands folded in front of him and that expression of polite curiosity that meant something really bad was going on. 

"If you're not busy, Agent Fitz, there's some kind protoplasmic organism eating a hole in the wall of the laboratory." 

"Uh, right, said Fitz. "Uh, protoplasmic? That's interesting. And unexpected." A dull boom came from the laboratory and one siren stopped with a sad wail. 

Coulson sighed wearily and Fitz scrambled to his feet. "I'll get it all under… under… organised," he said, and ran for the door. 

Mack surreptitiously pulled his t-shirt straight and picked up the spanner he'd put down when Fitz arrived. 

"I don't want to make comment on your relationship with Agent Fitz," said Coulson. "Or tell May what's happening under her plane." 

Mack's stomach dropped at the thought of May's face when she received this news. 

"I think there's something wrong with the AC in my office," Coulson went on. "Presuming it's not blocked by a protoplasmic organism, if you could sort that out, I'd be prepared to say I saw nothing here this afternoon." 

Mack blew out a sigh of relief; Coulson was letting him off lightly. "I'll get right on it, sir. Thanks." 

Coulson held out Fitz's timer, and pressed the start button. "I'll give you fifteen minutes," he said, and put it down on the floor. 

Mack grabbed the timer and ran for the door. Hopefully fifteen minutes would be perfectly adequate.


End file.
